FIRST PUBLISHED BY FORBES · AUG 6, 2026 · FORBES BUSINESS COUNCIL ↗
I had a patient learning a new routine after a major health change. Everything felt clumsy, slow and uncomfortable at first. There were mistakes, repeated questions and moments that looked like steps backward instead of forward. But week after week, they kept showing up. Trying, adjusting and learning eventually made what felt awkward become natural.
Leadership often expects growth to look smooth, confident and linear, but real growth rarely looks that way. It tends to be messy, uncertain and slower than anyone would like. Holding onto that lesson from my patient has changed how I read mistakes, how I evaluate readiness and how I think about the cost of stepping in before my team has had the chance to find out what they are capable of.
“Doesn’t look ready” and “isn’t ready” are not the same thing
The same patient sounded certain about everything. Every answer came quickly. “Got it.” “No problem.” “I understand.” It was reassuring until one visit when something did not add up. They were not confident because they understood. They were confident because they didn’t yet know what they did not know.
That same dynamic plays out in leadership more times than I can count. The team member who speaks up in every meeting moves quickly and never seems to be rattled, and somewhere along the way, you realize the speed was covering a gap, not proving that there wasn’t one. You missed it because everything looked fine. Everything sounded ready.
The opposite is also easy to misinterpret. The person who goes quiet during a new process. Who double-checks everything twice. Who comes to you with questions that feel basic given their experience level. From the outside, it can look like uncertainty, even doubt, like maybe this role was too much too soon. But this person may simply care enough to notice what they do not yet fully understand. Their questions are to make sure they get things right (or closer to right) the first time. The only way for you to know the difference is to look closer, not faster.
A mistake made while stretching is not the same as a mistake of judgment
Early in my VP role, I watched a nurse step into a coordinator role for the first time. She was sharp. Exactly the kind of person you want stepping up. But a few weeks in, she missed a documentation step, one that, on paper, looked like a straightforward oversight. My first instinct was the same one most leaders have. Flag it, correct it and make sure it doesn’t happen again. But before I did, I paused long enough to ask a different question: where did this come from?
She was building the mental map of how everything connected in a role she had never held before. She missed the documentation step because she was still learning how that step affected everything else. Once the connection was explained, the importance of the step became clear. The same step, missed by a seasoned coordinator who had done it a hundred times, would have meant something different entirely. Same error. Completely different meaning.
Leadership often treats every mistake the same: flag it, correct it, move on. But the response should depend on where the mistake came from. One calls for correction and support. The other calls for a harder conversation. Collapsing the two quietly penalizes the people who are willing to stretch beyond what they already know.
Growth rarely looks like progress while it’s happening
The new hire asks the same question three times a week. The promoted team member’s output slows down noticeably right after you move them up, right when you need them to accelerate. The person you gave more responsibility suddenly seems less confident. A small voice in the back of your mind wonders if you made the right call.
That discomfort doesn’t solely stem from watching a member struggle; it’s quiet second-guessing: Did I move too fast? Did I read them wrong? Should I pull this back before it becomes a problem? The mistake leaders make is concluding that the person who looks uncertain or clumsy must have been the wrong choice.
Executives might assume the smoothest, most confident person on the team is the one doing the best when the opposite could be true. It’s the team member asking the most questions, moving the slowest, second-guessing themselves the most who is growing the fastest, and the person who looks totally fine might just not know enough yet to realize what they’re missing.
Rescuing someone from their own learning can cost them the growth you’re trying to protect
A member of my team works through something visibly difficult, a complex situation she had not encountered at that level before. Every instinct told me to step in, smooth it out, take some of the weight off. And I almost did. But I caught myself, because I realized what stepping in would take away. She did not need me to solve it; she needed to find out that she could solve it herself. Stepping in too fast can quietly take away the exact experience that would have built what they needed for the next time.
That discomfort is not evidence that something is wrong. More often, it is the sign that someone is catching up to where they need to be. Good leaders know when to stay close and when to simply let it be uncomfortable a little longer.
Is this person struggling, or is this person growing?
You will watch someone go through an awkward stretch. They will ask more questions than feel efficient. Before you step in, pause long enough to ask the question that changes everything: Is this person struggling or is this person growing? Because the answer is rarely obvious in the moment and what you decide in that pause will shape not just what happens next, but what that person believes they are capable of long after the moment has passed.
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